


Two Nights in Akaroa

by WednesdayGilfillian



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, New Year's Eve, New Zealand, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:16:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WednesdayGilfillian/pseuds/WednesdayGilfillian
Summary: After one last farce of a Christmas with Harge's family - for Rindy's sake - Carol needed to get away, by herself. And you couldn't get much farther away than Akaroa, New Zealand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fic is pure indulgence on my part; I hope you enjoy it too. I wanted to take Carol & Therese away from all the trials & impediments of 1950's New York...so I've taken them to modern day New Zealand! Specifically, to Akaroa - a pretty and popular seaside village in New Zealand's South Island. 
> 
> The only thing you really need to know is that Akaroa has a distinct French influence, as it was nearly colonised by the French, before the British put their foot down. But I recommend image-searching 'Akaroa', too, if only to get a sense of how beautiful it is! But then, I am rather biased...

**December 30th**

The light was stunning, that was for sure – the way it struck the hills, like that, at twilight. The whole place was stunning, actually. Not exactly what Carol had expected, somehow…but she was glad to be there. After one last farce of a Christmas with Harge’s family – for Rindy’s sake – she’d had to get away, by herself. And you couldn’t get much farther away than Akaroa, New Zealand.

It really was like another world. It was still December, but here December meant the height of summer; there was still some heat in the air, even at sundown, and Carol felt lulled by the steady lapping of the tide against the wharf beneath her. Everything was beautiful, and oddly still, despite the bustle of the restaurants back on the waterfront. She checked her watch.  
9:08pm, December 30th.

_Five more minutes_ , she thought, _and then I’ll go…where?_

She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, just in time to see a young woman come up alongside her, wandering to the end of the wharf. She was slender, and dark-haired, dressed for the heat in cuffed navy shorts and a cotton blouse. She was completely absorbed in fiddling with the camera that hung around her neck, and had not noticed Carol (seated, as she was, on a bench against the railing.) The girl raised the camera to her eye, took a shot, and then considered it on the digital display. Carol smiled to herself, though she could barely have said why – she just had the sense that she was in good company.

Then the girl turned, saw her, and started.  
“I’m sorry,” Carol smiled apologetically, as the young woman’s hand flew to her heart. She laughed, her cheeks dimpling adorably.  
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s just so still out here.”  
She looked at the empty space on the bench, beside Carol.  
“Err, may I?”  
“Of course.”

_Well_ , said a sly, insistent voice in Carol’s head. _Isn’t this…pleasant?  
_ She tried to ignore it. She might even have tried to blame it on the single glass of white wine she’d had with dinner – except that this girl was undeniably, irrefutably lovely, all intoxication aside.   
_And probably she has a boyfriend who’d agree with me_ , Carol reminded herself, grimly.

“Have you been here before? I take it you’re a New Yorker, too.”  
“No, and yes,” the young woman smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d always wanted to see New Zealand, and then someone in a pub in Kaiteriteri told me I just couldn’t miss Akaroa, so here I am.”  
“I’m here on a sort of whim, myself,” Carol admitted. “Carol Aird, by the way.”  
“Therese Belivet.”

They shook hands, smiling, and again Carol felt stunned by the sheer loveliness of this girl.   
_This girl who cannot be more than twenty-five_.

“Therese – not Teresa? That’s lovely. And rather appropriate, in French Akaroa. I swear I’ve seen more French flags than New Zealand ones in this place!”  
Therese laughed, nodding in accord.

“And are you travelling alone? Or with a boyfriend, or girlfriend?”

Carol had always had a certain confidence, a way of just saying things – but now she cringed internally. _Good Lord, could you be more transparent?!_

What would be worse – if the girl saw right through her, or if she _didn’t_? If Carol’s interest didn’t even register?

Therese toyed with the strap of her camera.  
“I haven’t had a girlfriend for…nearly a year now. And you? I-I mean,” she hastened to clarify, colour rising in her cheeks, “are you travelling alone, that is.”  
Carol’s lips twitched – this girl, when flustered, was adorable.  
“It’s been a bit longer than a year, in my case…but yes, I’m travelling alone.”

The twilight was fading into dusk, now, the air hazy and yet sharp with sea salt. A strangely comfortable silence had fallen between them.  
“I wonder,” Therese began, “could…could I take your photograph? The light’s just _perfect_ , and I’m trying to get better at humans – but no pressure, of course.” She smiled apologetically.  
“Why not?” Carol shrugged, with a theatrical toss of the head – hoping this covered the way her skin had begun to hum. The thought of this girl looking at her, really _looking_ at her, with an artist’s eye…

“Where do you want me?”  
“If you could sort of lean against the railing, looking out over the water? I’m going to get you from side-on, in silhouette.”  
There was perhaps a minute of adjustment, of Therese calling “just tilt your head back a little” or “let your hair fall like that”, and the click of the camera, and then the young woman was back at her side.  
“Got it,” she beamed. “A couple of shots, actually. Just before the light disappeared.”  
Now the electric light from the jetty’s single lamp was falling across her face. Carol couldn’t quite think of what to say.

The tinny noise of a ring-tone shattered the silence. It took Carol a moment to realise that the sound was coming from her own pocket.   
“Oh, it…must be Abby…”  
She fished out her cell phone, and saw the screen lit up with that familiar name.

Therese immediately looked embarrassed, as though she felt she was intruding.  
“Well, it’s been lovely meeting you, Carol,” she said, hurriedly. “I’ll leave you to your call. Enjoy the rest of your vacation!”  
And Carol could only stand there, the phone ringing in her hand, as – with a little smile and a wave – Therese Belivet walked away.

_Damn._

With a sigh, she lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi, Abby.”  
“Hi! I didn’t wake you, did I? I did check the time zones.”  
“No, no… Actually, I’m standing out on a wharf, and the stars are just coming out.”  
“Sounds divine. I’m hiding in the bathroom at Aunt Mary’s house – I know your Christmas was awful, but you’re definitely getting the better deal for New Year’s.”  
Abby paused. “How are you, Carol?”  
“Oh, I’m…fine,” she replied, and was surprised to find that it was not a lie.  
“Actually…actually, I just met someone. Sort of. I mean, I’ll never see her again, and anyway she was much too young and beautiful…but, you know, it was…heartening.”  
Abby chuckled, not unkindly. “You old fox. Have a marvellous time – you deserve it.”  
“You too. I don’t suppose you could make an escape out the bathroom window?”  
“And hear about it for years to come? Not worth it. I’ll call you later, pal.”  
“Night, Abby.”

Carol slipped the phone back into her pocket, and wandered slowly back along the wharf towards her hotel. This was definitely the right place to be, she felt. An escape. And if the highlight of her trip turned out to be those few smiles from the dark-haired girl with the camera – well, that was a damn sight better than nothing. It had been enough to make Carol start to feel alive again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, I'm *not* working for the New Zealand Tourism Board...but if this story makes you want to visit, they should probably give me a commission. ;)

**December 31 st**

Therese Belivet knew she was being ridiculous. It was…schoolgirlish, to linger so deliberately on the main street, rereading every plaque on each historic building. To glance hopefully down every aisle in the tiny convenience store. To keep checking her hair in the reflection of shop windows, just in case that breathtaking woman _did_ come round the corner. It _was_ ridiculous…but Therese couldn’t exactly help herself.

It was, at least, a beautiful morning; the sort of morning you could easily be excused for strolling aimlessly through town. Therese had actually entertained the idea of a morning swim – she had her bikini on underneath her shirt – but had deferred the idea in favour of a coffee. (New Zealand coffee really was impressive, she had to admit.) Now she found herself drawn back to the waterfront, stepping back onto Daly’s Wharf. She wanted to capture the view of the bay in every possible light.

At the very end of the wharf, Therese shaded her eyes with her hand, squinting out into the blueness of the bay in hope of spotting a dolphin. She’d booked a boat tour for the afternoon, which promised a swim up close with the rare Hector’s dolphin. No sign of them yet…but she got a few stunning shots of the harbour, with its scattering of boats.

She heard the slosh of water beneath the wharf, and then footsteps on the stairs behind her, which gave access to the sea. Someone returning from a morning swim? Therese turned, and her breath caught. Climbing the wooden steps, salt water dripping from her blonde hair onto her bare shoulders, was the woman from the night before. Carol.

She looked up, and her features registered surprise, then amusement.  
“I must stop sneaking up on you.”  
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Therese stammered, perhaps too honestly, and averted her gaze to her camera strap. She was aware that she must look startled, but then she hadn’t exactly been prepared to meet Venus rising from the waves in bikini-clad splendour.  
_Don’t. Stare._

“How’s the water?” she managed, in an attempt at nonchalance.  
“Err, _bracing_ , I think, is the best way to describe New Zealand waters,” the woman shot her a charming grin, towelling herself dry and reaching for her clothes, which lay folded on the decking. “It’s refreshing, though.”  
Therese laughed. “You’re brave. I think I’ll just sunbathe, maybe read a little.”  
The woman was shrugging on a soft linen shirt over her bikini, doing up the buttons.  
“Would you mind if I joined you?”

That stunned Therese out of her resolution not to stare. Could she possibly have heard right? The woman was smiling at her, tousling her damp hair into effortlessly-stylish dishevelment.  
“Uh, sure! I mean, that’d be nice.”  
“Great. Just give me a minute to pop these on.”  
And Therese had to force herself to turn away again, as the woman slipped into a pair of shorts.

“Right – where are we going?”  
“I was thinking maybe over there, on the grass.”  
They walked in silence for a moment, the older woman rifling through the bag at her hip.

“It’s Carol, isn’t it?” asked Therese – as though that name had not been burned across her memory since the night before.  
“And you’re Therese.”  
It was not phrased as a question. She’d remembered. And God, but she was gorgeous.

“So, you’re obviously a keen photographer,” Carol nodded to the ever-present camera around Therese’s neck. “Is that what you’re studying?”  
“I’ve graduated, actually. This trip is sort of a reward for myself, and also a way to fill in time while I figure out the next step.”  
“Well, New Zealand is extraordinarily photogenic – you could call it a working holiday.”  
Therese smiled, grateful for that indulgent perspective.  
“And what about you? What do you do?”  
“I own a furniture store, with my friend, Abby. Antiques, mostly. I’ve been thinking of upping my hours, actually…I’ve just finalised a divorce, you see.”  
Therese looked up in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be. It’s been a long time coming. Anyway, it seems New Zealand is _de rigueur_ for getting away from things.”  
Therese laughed. “I certainly haven’t thought about the job hunt since I arrived.”

The sun was streaming down, and they found a spot to lay their towels down and stretch out on the grass.  
“Ahh, this is the life,” sighed Carol luxuriously, beginning to unbutton her soft blue shirt. Therese felt her pulse speed up a little, and reminded herself firmly that people took their shirts off to sunbathe every day. It was normal, not flirtatious. She reached for the hem of her own t-shirt, and pulled it over her head.

“Do you have sunscreen?” The woman was glancing over her pale shoulders and legs (which did nothing to help steady Therese’s pulse). “We’re right under the hole in the ozone layer, here – you had better protect that lovely complexion.”  
“Oh, yes, I’ve got some.” Therese turned to pull the bottle from her bag, and to hide her elation at that little compliment.  
“And a sunhat? Sorry,” Carol laughed, before she could reply, “the mothering habit is difficult to break, it seems.”  
“You’re a mother?”  
“Yes – Rindy’s just coming up ten. She’s a fantastic kid. She’s with her father at the moment.”  
Therese saw the shadow cross the woman’s face, and wanted desperately to say something to make it better. “I suppose you’ll be bringing her back lots of exciting New Zealand souvenirs?”  
Carol’s face brightened again, and she grinned. “As many as my baggage limit will allow.”

They sat in silence for a minute, applying sunscreen. Therese imagined being the brave sort of person who might ask Carol if she wanted sunscreen rubbed into her back…but she didn’t dare. That wasn’t her style.

“So, what’s your holiday reading material?” enquired Carol, nodding to the book that had slipped out of Therese’s satchel along with the sunscreen.  
“Oh, um, the short stories of Katherine Mansfield. She was part of the Bloomsbury literary set in London – you know, Virginia Woolf, and that crowd – but she was a New Zealander, originally. I like to read on a theme, when I travel.”  
Carol’s smile was just visible under the straw hat she was positioning over her face. “And are you enjoying them?”  
“Some more than others,” the young woman admitted. “But this one’s good. It’s called ‘Bliss’.”  
“Would you read me an extract?”  
“Uh, okay…”  
Therese felt a leap of nervousness – but reasoned that reading aloud would keep her eyes safely averted from the glorious temptation stretched out beside her.

‘Bliss’, like many stories of its time, was about a woman at a dinner party – but not just about a woman at a dinner party. As always, there were undercurrents, subtext.

_“‘Have you a garden?’ said the cool, sleepy voice._  
_This was so exquisite on her part that all Bertha could do was to obey. She crossed the room, pulled the curtains apart, and opened those long windows._  
_‘There,’ she breathed._  
_And the two women stood side by side looking at the slender, flowering tree.”_

Therese found herself blushing a little; the delicate subtext seemed all the clearer when the passage was read aloud.

_“How long did they stand there? Both, as it were, caught in that circle of unearthly light, understanding each other perfectly, creatures of another world, and wondering what they were to do in this one with all the blissful treasure that burned in their bosoms and dropped, in silver flowers, from their hair and hands?”_

Therese came to a halt, and closed the book in her lap. After a moment, a sleepy sigh issued from beneath Carol’s straw hat.  
“Mmm…lovely…”

Smiling, and allowing herself _one_ appreciative glance up and down the sun-drenched figure beside her, Therese stretched out on her towel, listening to the soothing lap of the tide.

A little while later, Therese came back to full consciousness, and rolled onto her side. Carol was still on her back, hat covering her face, either very relaxed or actually asleep. Checking her watch, Therese began to worry that they’d been out in the sun long enough – it was probably time to find some shade.

“Carol?”  
No response. Therese leaned nervously over her, wondering how best to wake her. Would touching her shoulder be too…forward?  
“Carol?” she tried again, her fingertips skimming the woman’s soft, sunscreen-slick shoulder.  
“Hmm?” She sat up, the hat falling from her face, and Therese leaned back quickly. “Oh, hello again,” Carol yawned, stretching her shoulders. “Looks like I got a little too comfortable.”  
“Shall we move into the shade for a bit? Maybe get a cool drink?”

Carol concurred, and after packing up their towels the two of them strolled away from the waterfront to the main street, passing backpackers hostels, gift shops, and cafés. They found a place with tables set out under the shade of some trees, and ordered ice cold old-fashioned lemonade. As much as Therese was still awed by Carol and her effortless charisma, it was in fact surprisingly easy to talk to her. They laughed to think what their fellow New Yorkers would make of New Zealand, and Therese told her how she’d stopped a conversation dead by telling the Kiwi bloke chatting her up that she’d never actually seen a game of rugby. Carol’s laugh was rich and warm and Therese could hardly blame herself for wanting to hear it again and again.

Their lemonade finished, they wandered through the souvenir shops, Carol looking out for gifts for Rindy. Therese chose a couple of postcards, and a manuka honey lip balm. Carol picked out a cuddly toy kiwi bird, and a bracelet made of the shimmery paua shell native to New Zealand waters.  
“Rindy’ll love these. She’s just at that age where you start wanting to wear jewellery, like a grown up.”

Wandering on further, they came upon a quaint little blue and white building with ‘AKAROA CINEMA’ emblazoned in large letters on the front.  
“Who would’a thought?” Carol laughed, and the two of them went to investigate. It turned out that the ‘cinema’ consisted of a small room with seventeen seats; but, considering its size, it screened an impressive range of titles. Summer blockbusters, arthouse movies, the lot. Up next, in five minutes’ time, was an old black-and-white era comedy.

Pushing her sunglasses up into her hair, Carol turned to regard Therese with a smile.  
“What do you say – shall we see it?”  
Before Therese could reply, she added, “I’m probably being very presumptuous – I’m sure you have other, better things to do than wander round with me.”  
“No, I…I’d like to see it,” the girl shook her head, rather glad Carol didn’t know just how high a position she’d come to occupy in Therese’s list of priorities. “I did take a few film papers at college.”

They were the only audience – which was probably unsurprising, so early on such a sunny day. Sitting there in the dark, Therese caught the scent of sunscreen on warm skin, and also a trace of some delicious perfume. As far as Therese was concerned, watching a movie with anyone this attractive – sharing an arm rest – was a unique form of torture. She kept her hands locked together in her lap, and tried not to dwell on how good it felt when Carol’s warm leg shifted to rest against hers. At least the film was a good one – but that wasn’t much of a distraction, really, since it made Carol laugh and offer whispered commentary in her ear. By the time the credits rolled, Therese felt like she could do with a brisk walk around the block. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been such a bundle of nervous – and, yes, sexual – energy.

They were standing out on the street, admiring the posters for upcoming films, when Therese’s satchel began to vibrate and a ring-tone shattered the silence.  
“Oh, that’s me…”  
Pulling out her cell phone, Therese answered the call.

“Hi, is this Teresa Belivet?”  
It was a man’s voice, with a thick New Zealand accent.  
“Yes.”  
“This is Kev, from Akaroa Cruises. You’re booked in for a dolphin swim at one o’clock, is that right?”  
“Oh, uh, yes.”  
“You’re not waiting at the wrong wharf, are ya?”  
“No, I-”  
“Well, if you can get here in the next five minutes, we’ll get you on board. Otherwise you might have to reschedule for tomorrow, or miss out. We’ll see ya soon?”  
“Right…”

As the call dropped, Therese looked up at Carol, who had heard every word. Therese was mortified; she’d _completely_ forgotten, and this was the last thing she wanted, to be dragged away from Carol so abruptly.  
“So,” the older woman smiled, looking sympathetic, “you’ve got to dash?”  
“Well,” she shrugged, a little desperately, “it’s probably too late now…”  
“Nonsense, run and you’ll make it.”  
_This is it_ , Therese thought, glumly. _You’re never going to see her again._

“And then you could tell me about it, tonight?” Carol went on, unexpectedly, with the air of someone improvising. “We could meet for dinner, see in the New Year. How about it? Eight o’clock, at L’Hotel Akaroa?”  
It was a moment before Therese could reply; the relief she felt at the prospect of seeing Carol again was quite overwhelming.  
“Alright. That would be lovely.”  
She knew was grinning like an idiot, but it just couldn’t be helped.  
“Well, uh, I’ve got to run. I’ll see you tonight!”  
“Tonight!” Carol called after her, as she sprinted away towards the harbour.

\--

Carol Aird folded her arms, her lips curving into a smile as she watched the girl sprint away, satchel bouncing wildly at her hip.  
_What exactly do you think you’re doing?_

But really, she reasoned to herself, asking Therese to dinner had been an act of restraint. She hadn’t wanted to let the young woman go at all.  
_Screw the dolphins,_ she’d wanted to say, _let me feed you sorbet on a bench in the shade!_ So really, she was being measured and responsible.

Even so, she had to wonder just what she was getting herself into. That girl was so…

And she _wasn’t_ reading the signals wrong, was she? Therese was young, and shy, certainly, but there was definitely something there…

Still, Carol had no time to overthink things. She had to acquire a last-minute dinner reservation for L’Hotel Akaroa on New Year’s Eve – and pick something suitably divine to wear.

She had never really enjoyed New Year’s, in the past – invariably it ended up a disappointment. Setting off for her hotel, Carol crossed her fingers in her pocket.  
_Just this once, let things go my way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The story from which Therese reads is 'Bliss', by Katherine Mansfield, and is very definitely not my intellectual property.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely responses!! I hope you enjoy this next installment...

Therese paused on the sidewalk, seeing the sign for L’Hotel Akaroa up ahead and willing herself to calm down.

_You can do this. You look fine. It probably isn’t even a date._

She thought, for a moment, that she’d actually convinced herself – and then she caught sight of the woman lounging at a table near the entrance. It was, without a doubt, Carol – and she’d never looked more incredible. From that safe distance, Therese drank in the sight of her in a figure-hugging peach-coloured dress, sunlight glinting off her blonde hair and gold bracelet.

_Oh God. How can that woman be waiting for me?_

Smoothing down her skirt, Therese took a deep breath, and headed towards the hotel.

\--

Carol drummed her manicured fingers compulsively on the table. What she really wanted was a cigarette, but even that probably wouldn’t have helped. Which was ridiculous, because just that morning she’d been so calm and in control…but then, dinner _was_ different. Or at least, she wanted it to be.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned in her chair.

Therese Belivet was smiling nervously down at her, but it was Carol who felt a leap in her stomach. The girl was exquisite, in a dark teal frock that was summery and elegant, with sort of a vintage flair. There were delicate touches to her make-up as well, around the eyes, and the lips…

“Wow,” she managed, rising from her chair.  
“Wow yourself,” Therese smiled shyly, her dimples showing.  
Coming back to herself, Carol tried to take charge of the moment, smoothing down her skirt.  
“Don’t we scrub up nicely? I’ve got us a better table inside, just thought I’d meet you out here. Follow me.”

The dining room of L’Hotel Akaroa had all its doors open to the summer air, and the interior had been decked out for New Year’s Eve in streamers of silver and gold. The room was already fairly full with couples and families, and on the small stage a band was setting up. As they crossed the floor to their table, Therese looked around in apparent awe.  
“This place is gorgeous!”

Carol immediately found herself wondering whether the young woman would have the same reaction to her suite upstairs, with its fine furnishings and ensuite jacuzzi. Then she stamped down on that thought.  
_Don’t go getting ahead of yourself._

A dapperly-dressed waiter seated them at a table that looked out open doors onto the waterfront.  
“Can I get you anything to drink, ladies?”  
“Champagne, please. Two glasses.”  
Seeing Therese’s eyes widen slightly, Carol leaned towards her, “Tonight is on me, I hasten to add.”  
“Oh-” the girl began to protest, but Carol fixed her with a firm smile.  
“I’ll have none of that, Miss Belivet! This is my treat.”

And Therese couldn’t have known just what a treat it _was_ – what a blissful change from past weeks – to be sitting there, with her, the sea glittering behind them.

The waiter returned bearing two glasses on a tray, and both women were delighted to find a strawberry fizzing in the champagne.  
“To…?” Carol raised her glass in a toast.  
“To an excellent start to the New Year,” Therese suggested, clinking their glasses together.  
“Indeed,” smiled Carol, raising the glass to her lips. “Let’s start as we mean to go on, shall we? Mmm, that’s delicious.”

They sat in comfortable silence perusing the dinner menu, though Carol couldn’t seem to help stealing glances at her companion. Eyes fixed on the menu, Therese idly fished the strawberry from her glass and popped it in her mouth in a way that was entirely innocent, but still made Carol’s toes curl in her heels. She was almost relieved when the waiter returned for their orders.

As the waiter left, Therese bent to pull something from her smallish handbag, then placed a mini polaroid camera on the table. Carol raised her eyebrows, and the young woman gave a sheepish laugh.  
“I know – I _may_ have a bit of a camera problem.”  
“Well, you clearly still had room in your suitcase for that pretty frock,” Carol smirked.   
“Actually, it’s a sort of tradition,” Therese explained. “I always take just two snaps, every New Year.”  
“Ah, I see,” the older woman nodded. “And, uh, what will your subject be this year?”  
It was a shamelessly leading question, and Therese’s eyes were bright with laughter as she played along.   
“Well…if you could just sort of gaze nonchalantly to your left… _and_ stop laughing…”  
“Sorry,” said Carol, making a valiant effort to compose herself. The champagne was already making her silly. God, when was the last time she’d felt like this?

Therese snapped a shot, and slowly the image began to resolve itself; Carol, smiling serenely to one side, with the ocean glittering behind her.  
“Perfect. And…”  
She shifted in her chair, clearly deciding on the best angle from which to capture the room.  
“Wait, shouldn’t you be in one of them?”  
“Oh, I don’t usually-”  
“Here, let me.”  
Carol pulled the camera gently from her grip.  
“Now, are you going to smile, or are you going for ‘beautifully pensive’?”  
The camera caught Therese’s brilliant, laughing smile, and Carol couldn’t help feeling a bit smugly proud of herself.

The two photos sat on the table between them, and Carol stared for a moment at that shot of Therese. Somehow it seemed to constitute proof, concrete evidence, that Carol had not been imagining the way Therese looked at her.

Their food arrived a moment later – which was probably for the best – and it provided a useful diversion. It was all delicious, and they talked over the best meals they’d eaten in different countries. Carol had travelled rather more widely, which was hardly surprising, and Therese listened in rapt attention as the older woman regaled her with stories of nights in Italy, and Greece.

They glanced over the dessert menu when the waiter returned, and accepted his recommendation of the traditional New Zealand dessert, pavlova – along with more champagne.   
“It’s basically angel food cake, isn’t it?” Therese decided, after one light, creamy mouthful.  
“Except even better. Mmm, that’s heaven!”

Outside the sky was slowly darkening, and the waterfront was starting to bustle with revellers. The band the hotel had brought in turned out to be a jazz band, which seemed to impress Therese even further. After a brief warm up, a conductor appeared, and struck up a familiar number.  
“Oh, they’re fantastic! If you closed your eyes, you’d have no idea what decade it was!”

Carol glanced across at the younger woman, feeling the champagne and the music conspiring together against her better judgement.  
“I don’t suppose you know how to dance? The old-fashioned way, I mean.” Then she laughed at herself. “What am I saying, of course you don’t – you’re about twelve!”  
“I’m twenty-four!” Therese retorted, with a sparking, ‘just you try me’ sort of look, that made Carol want to…   
“They did _try_ to teach us the foxtrot and things for prom, but that was years ago.”  
“Well…maybe I can do better…”   
Carol inclined her head towards the dance floor, where a sweet old couple were rotating round the floor to an old Gershwin tune. “Shall we see if we can them a run for their money?”   
Therese laughed at that, and bit her lip for a moment.  
“Alright then.”

Wondering vaguely what on earth she thought she was doing, Carol followed Therese onto the floor. At least they weren’t the only ones dancing; in addition to the elderly couple, there were now three enthusiastic but erratic six year olds dancing in a pack, and also a pair of teenagers (who didn’t seem able to do much else but giggle). Therese turned to face her, and the girl’s look of mingled self-consciousness and anticipation gave Carol the courage she needed.  
“I’ll be Fred,” she winked, “you’re Ginger.”  
“You look more like her,” Therese replied, sweetly, but didn’t object when Carol took her hand, and with the other held her at the waist.  
“Your other hand on my shoulder, if you please. And now, Miss Belivet, we go like this…”

At first, Therese mostly looked down at their feet. Once she stumbled, and on instinct Carol gripped her more firmly at the waist. But Therese was a quick learner, and though she was still laughing at herself – her cheeks a fetching pink – before long she didn’t need to watch their feet at all. She had just started looking up with more confidence, smiling around the room, when the old couple danced past and the lady called out “You’re doing very well, dear!”  
Therese laughed in delight, and Carol felt what remained of her defences crumbling. God, but this girl was sweet…

By the time the band struck up that brassy favourite ‘Mack the Knife’, Therese had lost any remaining self-consciousness – and Carol felt more alive than she had in…years.  
“I’m going to spin you.”  
“Okay!”  
The corners of Carol’s mouth practically ached from smiling.

And this newly-confident Therese – making the most of the twirl of her skirt, swaying her hips, laughing deliriously – was, to be frank, incredibly sexy. Carol relished every opportunity the dance gave to touch her.

They parted as the number ended on a brassy wail, and everyone on the dance floor began to applaud. Therese was flushed, her chest rising and falling beneath teal satin. Carol felt the heat in her own cheeks.  
“I think I need another drink,” she told the young woman, leaning closer so as to be audible. “Join me?”

They made their way over to the bar and leaned against it, people-watching as they waited for the bartender’s attention. Therese pointed to the group of children, who were still dancing, and whispered something in her ear – though Carol didn’t quite catch it, preoccupied as she was by the shock of the young woman’s breath on her skin. _  
Ohhh, I want her. Badly._

“And what can I get you, ladies?”  
“Uh, a mint julep for me, please. And what about you, darling – more champagne?”  
It had just slipped out, and anyway, it was the sort of thing women called each other all the time. But Therese’s eyes locked with hers for a moment, and Carol felt as though she’d been caught out. Then the girl’s face broke into a smile.  
“Just one more glass, then – why not? I’ll be back in a minute.”  
And with a brief touch to Carol’s arm, she headed off towards the bathroom.

Leaning against the bar, her whole body humming, Carol checked her watch to see how close they were to midnight.   
_Will I even last that long, without just...kissing her?  
_ Carol raised the cool mint julep to her lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments!! You'll notice I've upped the rating to M for this chapter...
> 
> Oh, and just a warning: this chapter contains a brief instance of (basic, brainless) homophobia.

In the sanctuary of the ladies’ bathroom, Therese Belivet was running cool water over her wrists. And maybe panicking, just a little bit.

_This cannot be reality! You don’t just go to New Zealand and get expertly romanced by an absolute goddess of a woman…that’s not how it works!! (Otherwise everyone would do it!)_

_Alright, calm down Therese - you’re getting hysterical._

Looking up at her reflection, she noted the light in her eyes, the flush to her cheeks. There was no denying how affected she was by Carol, and her proximity. When they danced…well, anyone who said old-fashioned dancing was stuffy and sexless had clearly never met Carol Aird.

And she _couldn’t_ be reading the signals wrong, could she? Not now?

If the night just…ended…well, then Therese would still have had an incredible evening. She would perhaps walk a little taller, knowing that a woman like Carol at least thought her good company. She would know that this kind of happiness was possible, even if this particular night it wasn’t for her. But, God, she hoped it was…

_And if it does happen, I don’t want to ruin it by being timid. I’ve got to start living sometime. Why not tonight?_

\--

Carol had been leaning at the bar for a few minutes, waiting for Therese, when she found herself being approached by the old lady from the dance floor.  
“I just wanted to say, it’s lovely to see you young people doing the old dances. No one seems to know the foxtrot anymore…”  
A few moments later – mercifully – Therese reappeared at Carol’s elbow.  
“Oh, hello, dear. I was just telling your friend here how pleased we were to see that someone still remembers the old dances. Anyway, have a lovely evening, won’t you? We’re going to turn in early, I’m afraid.”  
Shuffling away, the lady said loudly in the ear of her hard-of-hearing husband, “They’re Americans, Gerald. That explains it.”

The women turned to each other and burst out laughing, and Carol felt a warmth building in her stomach. Being with Therese was _comfortable_ , as well as thrilling. If it weren’t for the way the girl’s beauty set her nerves on edge, Carol thought, she would have been perfectly at ease in her company.

“Oh, here’s your drink, by the way,” Carol remembered, pointing to the waiting glass beside her empty one.  
“Thank you. For dinner, and everything, Carol. I’d never be having a New Year’s like this with anyone else.”  
“Oh, well, it’s my pleasure.”  
_Believe me…_

On the dance floor, a song had just ended, and the conductor turned to face the room.  
“We’re going to take a short break after this number, so you’d better get on the floor, unless you’re pacing yourselves in the lead up to midnight!”  
Carol privately thought that pacing themselves might in fact be a wise idea – if only to save herself from temptation. But when she turned to look at Therese, the young woman was smiling.  
“Come on!”  
Therese had grabbed her hand, and before Carol knew it she was being pulled onto the dance floor. The conductor was still introducing the next song.

“Now, for our next number we’ll be posing that age-old question, ‘What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?’” grinned the conductor, smoothly. “So, if you haven’t already got someone lined up for that midnight kiss, this might just be your last chance to ask them!”

Therese had suddenly become intensely interested in the strap on her dress, and Carol noticed the colour rising in her cheeks. That sweet girl had pulled them onto the floor, and now the band was going to play a slow song. It could _almost_ have been funny…except that the stakes were so high.

The band started up a smooth, romantic tune, and Carol knew that she was going to have to be the one to get them through this moment.  
“Well, shall we? It’s the same thing, the same steps as before, just a bit more…lilting.”  
Therese finally met her eyes, and her expression was difficult to read. Was it just embarrassment, or was there longing there as well as trepidation?  
“Alright. You’d better lead, again.”  
So Carol took her hand, and let her other hand settle at the curve of the girl’s waist. If she could just focus on the steps…

 _Maybe it’s much too early in the game_  
_Ah, but I thought I’d ask you just the same_  
_What are you doing New Year’s_  
_New Year’s Eve?_

The problem was, they weren’t performing the role of ‘women awkwardly learning to dance’, anymore. They were just…dancing. And there was nothing to laugh about. All they could do was hold each other’s gaze.

 _Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight_  
_When it’s exactly twelve o’clock at night_  
_Welcoming in the New Year_  
_New Year’s Eve_

On impulse – and, frankly, because she couldn’t resist – Carol slid her hand from the girl’s waist to her upper back, as though correcting her posture.  
“Posture, darling,” she murmured – and though she had meant it to be a joking mock-admonishment, it came out sounding like a caress. And she felt Therese shiver.

 _Maybe I’m crazy to suppose_  
_I’d ever be the one you chose_  
_Out of a thousand invitations_  
_You’ll receive_

And now Therese was looking up at her through those dark eyelashes, and Carol felt her chest constrict with something that wasn’t just desire. (Though it _was_ that, too.)

 _Ah, but in case I stand one little chance_  
_Here comes the jackpot question in advance:_  
_What are you doing New Year’s_  
_New Year’s Eve?_

It was getting to be almost too much, and Carol tore her eyes away for a moment…which was when she saw the men. Three of them, in a huddle, their faces red with drink – and they were laughing. Nudging each other, pointing, waggling their eyebrows suggestively.

Carol felt a white hot stab of rage, followed immediately by a fierce urge to protect the girl in her arms. But Therese had already felt her stiffen, and turned to see what it was that Carol was staring at. The look on her face just about broke Carol’s heart.

“Let’s go,” the older woman said, through gritted teeth. “I’m not putting up with this.”  
Keeping a firm hold on Therese’s hand, she pulled her off the dance floor towards their table, where she snatched up their bags. And, shooting one last look of pure contempt at the men in the corner, she marched them out into the warm, dark night.

The waterfront was a busy thoroughfare, and Carol just wanted to get away – from the hotel, from everyone. There was a tiny jetty nearby that stretched a little way onto the water, and she strode out onto it, heels clacking on the wooden decking. Therese followed half a step behind, her brow creased in a pained expression.

“Every goddamn place you go!” Carol fumed, her body thrumming with a potent mix of desire and frustration. “They got marriage equality here back in 2013, and yet assholes are eternal!”  
“Well, I could have been less obvious.”  
As though she thought it was _her_ fault, for making Carol want her.  
“You shouldn’t have had to! God knows _I_ couldn’t help it…”

She had come to the end of the jetty, there was nowhere else to go – so Carol spun around and found herself face-to-face with Therese. And, as she watched the girl’s expression soften, Carol realised what she’d just tacitly admitted.

Wordlessly, Carol stepped closer, and cupped Therese’s cheek in one hand. The young woman’s eyes flickered to her mouth, and Carol heard the hitch of her breath as she leaned in. It was the softest brush of lips – _so soft_ – till, suddenly, Therese demanded more. The girl’s hands were pulling her closer, and her mouth was soft and sweet, and Carol groaned at the feel of it all. Encouraged, she let her fingers trail Therese’s neck, caress her hair – all the while angling for greater contact. It was a few more breathless moments till they parted.

The girl’s breathing was ragged, and it was the most wonderful relief to see her offer a shy smile, after the sour turn the evening had taken. But that was all blown away now, on the cool breeze that was coming off the bay. Now there was only Therese.  
“You,” Carol whispered, letting her thumb brush the corner of the girl’s mouth, “are… _exquisite_.”  
Therese gave a shaky little laugh, and closed her eyes at Carol’s touch.  
“You are,” the older woman insisted, and gave in to the urge to kiss her again. Therese hummed in pleasure against her lips.

Carol could not recall ever wanting anyone with such intensity. Her fingers trailed lightly down the satin of Therese’s back, delighting in every shiver and sigh she could coax from the girl. She was beginning to wonder how much more she could stand when Therese broke their kiss, with a gasp.

“Carol…” she began, her fingers tracing nervous circles. “Supposing I were to ask you back to my room…”  
“Yes?” Carol breathed, unable to hide the urgency of her interest.  
“Well, would you?”  
“In an instant.”

Therese’s look of shy uncertainty slowly transformed to a sensual smile, and Carol felt her knees go weak. Therese pressed one more – frustratingly chaste – kiss to her mouth, and then Carol found herself being pulled by one hand, off the little jetty and onto the street.  
“Come on!”

As they hurried together through the New Year’s crowd, Carol felt dazed. Some part of her brain registered that this meant they would miss the midnight countdown, and also that she didn’t care a bit.  
“Please tell me your hotel is close by?” she murmured, giving Therese an unabashedly hungry look.  
“Just round the corner. But it won’t be as upmarket as yours-”  
Carol interrupted her. “Darling, décor is the last thing on my mind at this particular moment.”  
Therese grinned, biting her lip.

The hotel was mid-range, but the staff greeted them cheerfully as they hurried through the lobby.  
“Kia ora, ladies! Happy New Year!”  
In the elevator, Therese said quietly, “I don’t normally do this – so soon after meeting someone, I mean.”  
“It wouldn’t be for me to judge if you did. But you are sure, aren’t you? We don’t have to-”  
“I’m sure.”

Therese let them into her room, and Carol waited while she went around drawing the curtains closed, lighting a lamp, locking the door behind them. Carol was struck anew by how young the girl was, how sweet – what an honour it was, to be where she was now. When Therese at last stood still and turned to look at her, Carol crossed the room in a few steps, taking her in her arms.

She had meant to start slow, but Therese was sweetly eager and their kisses grew heated quickly. Carol tore her lips away to press open-mouthed kisses on the tender skin of Therese’s neck, and let one hand graze the young woman’s breast through satin. They both gasped.  
“How do I get this lovely little thing off you?”  
“Side zip,” Therese managed. Then, when she had got control of her voice, “Do you like the dress?”  
“Very much.”  
“I was hoping you might.”

Carol pulled away long enough for Therese to slip the frock to the floor, then pressed against her again; pushing aside the straps of her bra, easing one perfect breast from its cup. Therese’s eyes were dark with need, and fell shut when Carol brushed her thumb across a rosy nipple.  
“Oh, God, Carol…”  
The sense of power was intoxicating, and Carol teased slowly at her nipple until Therese whimpered.  
“When I saw you coming out of the water this morning,” whispered Therese, “I almost forgot to breathe…”  
“Is that so?” Carol murmured, wondering what other sweet confessions she might be able to coax from this girl with her fingers, her tongue…

“Take me to bed?”  
Smiling, Carol reached for the clasp on her dress.

\--

At some point, Carol remembered, they had heard the boom and crackle of fireworks, and Therese had murmured ‘Happy New Year’ against her skin. But they had not had much attention to spare, at that particular moment.

Now, they were sitting side by side in bed, leaning against the headboard. Therese had twitched the curtains open, so that they had a view of the lights on the water. There was a comfortable, sated silence between them.

“Is this…real?” Therese asked, all of a sudden, and just as quickly apologised, “Sorry, that’s probably a very adolescent thing to say.”  
Carol felt a warmth rise in her chest – she felt fiercely protective of this girl, who so readily apologised for her own sweetness. She reached for Therese’s hand and pulled it into her lap, looking down at their intertwined fingers.  
“I’m in New Zealand for two more days. I might even be able to extend my stay. And, back in New York…I’d be thrilled if you’d call me, Therese. Thrilled.”  
She huffed that last word in a little laugh, faintly embarrassed by her own lack of detachment.

Raising her eyes to meet her lover’s, she found Therese smiling at her so tenderly that Carol’s breath caught in her chest.

Therese leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheekbone, then adjusted the pillows and snuggled down in the bed.  
“Goodnight, Carol. And Happy New Year.”  
“Happy New Year, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay? I should probably mention that this is my first real F/F fic, so I hope I'm doing Therese & Carol justice.
> 
> Anyway, there's probably about one more chapter/epilogue/thing to go!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, readers! My apologies for the delay in updating; school commitments have got in the way of writing, recently. (Honestly, assignments in December shouldn't even be A Thing!) Thanks for your patience! xx

Carol came slowly to consciousness as the room brightened. She stretched beneath the sheets, feeling delicious aches in her body. And Therese lay there beside her, her hair mussed with sleep, one pale arm thrown out from under the sheets. Carol was just considering pressing a kiss to that enticing shoulder…but then she noticed, across the room, her cellphone buzzing quietly on the floor where it had slipped out of her handbag.

Sliding carefully out of bed so as not to wake Therese, Carol tiptoed across the room, snatched up her phone, and answered it in a whisper.  
“Hi, Abby. Hang on, I’m just-”  
“Carol, do you have _company_?!”  
“Shh!”  
Glancing over shoulder to check that the girl was still asleep, Carol slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

“Alright, I can talk now. Hi!”  
“You’re naked right now, aren’t you?”  
“Why would you ask that?”  
“You just sound naked. I have a keen ear for lechery.”  
Carol rolled her eyes, grinning in spite of herself.  
“It wasn’t lecherous…it was divine.”  
Abby snorted.

“So, are you going to tell me about her?”  
“Maybe later. How was _your_ New Year’s?”  
“How _is_ it, you mean? It’s still going on – we’re 18 hours behind you, here, remember. And so far it’s no better than expected. But don’t let me drag you down from Cloud Nine.”  
“Aww, Abby. I’ll bring you back something fabulous, how about that?”

Having left Abby with that promise and wished her a happy New Year, Carol took a moment to splash some water on her face, and make sure that her hair was attractively tousled. When she slipped back into the bedroom, she saw that Therese had rolled over in bed, now facing her. A smile tugged at the corners of Carol’s mouth.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she murmured, slipping back between the sheets. Her bedfellow stirred, and blinked a few times before offering a sleepy smile.  
“Mm, good morning,” Therese yawned, brushing her dark bangs out of her eyes.   
“Happy New Year,” Carol replied, with an air of teasing one-upmanship, letting one hand wander beneath the sheets to trace the line of Therese’s hip.  
“I thought we’d said that already?” the young woman smirked. “But then, last night _was_ all a bit of a haze. In a good way, I mean,” she hastened to add.  
Carol chuckled and pulled Therese closer, delighting in the feel of skin on skin, and feeling her body begin to react to their delicious proximity.  
“I was thinking,” began Carol, toying with the girl’s dark hair, “ _when_ we’re good and ready, I could sneak back to my hotel and freshen up a bit, and then we could meet for breakfast?”  
“Sounds perfect,” Therese replied, and then shot a coy glance down to where Carol’s fingers were now gliding up her ribcage. “So, uh, _are_ we ready, or…?”  
The blonde gave her a sensual smile. “Not _quite_ yet…”

\---

Therese could not remember a New Year’s Day ever feeling so… _new_. There she was, waiting in a seaside café, and though she must have looked quite normal – shorts, blouse, ponytail – she did not feel at all like the girl she’d been yesterday. And everything around her was so stupidly beautiful; the light on the water, the children strolling past with ice creams, even the glint of her spoon in the sun.

Beneath all this aching happiness, however, there was the faintest unease. Carol hadn’t been in a hurry to leave her that morning – she’d slipped back into her dress, and given Therese a lingering kiss goodbye before sneaking back to her hotel. Carol had given her no reason to doubt…and yet some tiny part of Therese couldn’t quite believe that she’d really see Carol again. That would be too…perfect, surely.

And now Carol was five minutes late. Therese tried not to fidget, instead pulling a few tourism brochures from her satchel and attempting to peruse them. Cycle tours…wineries…a penguin colony… None of it helped; she just imagined Carol, cycling or wine-tasting or laughing in delight.

_I am done for. Absolutely doomed._

Then she looked up, and felt her heart leap. Carol, fresh-faced and summery-looking, had just entered the café. Spotting Therese, she grinned, and hurried over.  
“Sorry I’m late, darling,” the woman apologised, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I had a call from Rindy – God knows what she’s doing up so late, New Year’s Eve or not!”  
Therese just beamed, feeling waves of relief wash over her. Carol’s hand rested possessively on the back of her chair.  
“Shall we order?”

Once they had ordered and settled back at their table, Therese enquired, “So, how was Rindy?”  
Carol smiled, and it was obvious how much she adored her daughter.   
“She sounded good. A little jealous of my New Zealand adventure, I think – but she’ll perk up when she sees what I’ve brought her. I told her I’d made a new friend, and frankly I think she was suspicious – just the way she asked ‘Is it a girl?’”  
They both laughed, and Carol let her bare leg touch Therese’s beneath the table.

“What’ve you been reading?”  
“Oh, just brochures,” said Therese, pushing one towards her.   
“Ooh, that winery _does_ look nice… What are your evening plans? Would you let me take you there for dinner?”  
Therese half-laughed, feeling flustered. “Of course, I’d love to! I’m paying for breakfast, though. But what are _your_ plans? You’re leaving in a few days?”  
She hated to mention it, but she had to know. She was going to have to prepare herself.  
“Well,” said Carol, with supreme nonchalance, “I’m missing an airport shuttle as we speak. I was supposed to fly down to Queenstown today, but I found there was greater incentive to stay here.”  
Therese found herself momentarily speechless, and Carol’s lips curved into a smile.  
“But yes, at this stage I’ll be flying out of New Zealand on…Tuesday morning. I’m free till then.”  
“Right…” managed Therese, distractedly, as a waitress delivered their coffees.

“Look, Therese,” said Carol, more seriously, “I came here with no plan other than to treat myself to an escape. And I’ve been enjoying rather _more_ of a treat than anticipated…”  
Therese blushed.  
“I don’t want to mess up your solo travel, but, if you’ve got the next few days open…”  
“I don’t have any plans,” Therese assured her, hurriedly. “Not concrete ones. I’d love to spend some time with you.”  
“Well then,” beamed Carol, “that’s that.”

Their breakfasts arrived a moment later, and soon they were pouring over brochures – for Akaroa, where they would stay for one more night, and for the areas surrounding Christchurch (out of which Carol would be flying). Therese sipped her coffee, and wondered if she’d ever been happier.

\--

“Wineries are dangerous places,” Carol observed sagely, fumbling with the key to her hotel suite. “It’s so easy to just try one more vintage, and then another…”  
She was a trifle unsteady on her feet, but managed to get the door open, and threw one arm out dramatically. “Ta da!”  
“Carol,” gaped Therese, herself a little giddy with wine, “this place is gorgeous.”  
“Just wait till you see the jacuzzi,” the woman murmured in her ear, and Therese groaned at the thought.  
“You’re going to be the death of me.”

Carol ushered her into the ensuite, set the tub running to fill, and then began to unbutton her shirt. Therese made no attempt to avert her eyes as the woman stripped down to her underwear, and Carol smirked. Closing the distance between them, she began to trail kisses down Therese’s neck, at the same time reaching to undress her.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” she murmured, her breath hot on Therese’s neck. “I mean, the scenery was fantastic, that garden was beautiful, but _you_ …”   
Therese’s eyes had fallen closed, her breathing was ragged, and it was all she could do to assist Carol by shrugging out of her clothes.  
“Help me with this?”   
Carol turned around, and Therese was all too happy to undo the clasp of her bra – emboldened, she pressed a kiss to the base of her neck.   
“Your turn…”

As maddeningly slow as Carol was taking things, before long they were both naked, and Carol gestured for her to hop into the tub. It was just the right size for two, and for a moment they just sat there, taking in the sight of each other.  
“Those polaroid photos – the ones we took at dinner last night,” said Carol, suddenly. “Can I keep the one of you? Or would that break your set?”

Therese felt an ache in her chest. The idea that Carol wanted a piece of her, a token to keep in her wallet…  
“You can keep it,” she said, softly. The way Carol was looking at her…  
“Thank you. Now, come here…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I an awful tease? Apologies - I'm just a little shy when it comes to writing those sorts of scenes. (Maybe I'll grow into it?) Anyway, hope you liked what's there!
> 
> Now all that's left is the Epilogue!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you people are nice and so I wrote an extra chapter? After *this* one, there's just the Epilogue left! Hope you enjoy!

“Right, and you’re headed to…?”  
The Kiwi bus driver trailed off, waiting expectantly. It took Therese a good two seconds to realise she was being addressed.  
“Oh, uh, Oamaru?”  
“Righty-oh, in ya hop. I’ll take this,” the driver gestured to the larger of her two bags, and Therese handed it to him, using her free hand to check for the umpteenth time that the small square of paper was still in her pocket.

The square of paper Carol Aird had given her two hours ago, when they’d said goodbye at Christchurch International Airport.  They had both tried not to make a big deal of it – and it had all been over so quickly, that it had been surreal. Carol’s flight had been called, and she’d given Therese a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and pressed the piece of paper into her hand. And then she was gone.

Therese had not been able to bring herself to unfold the paper. What if it was Carol’s way of letting her down gently, of ending a fun summer fling? Carol had _acted_ perfectly sincere, in their few days together…but could she really intend to fit Therese into her New York life? With her ex-husband, and her daughter, and everything?

On desperate impulse, Therese pulled the scrap of paper from her pocket, and forced herself to unfold it. It had obviously come from a complimentary L’Hotel Akaroa notepad, given the company name emblazoned at the top. There, in Carol’s handwriting, were three numbers; _Home_ , _Work_ , and _Cell_. And beneath that:

_Call me. (Seriously.)_

Therese let out a watery laugh, for a moment overwhelmed with relief. Tucking the piece of paper safely into her bra, she took a deep breath and gazed out the window, actually seeing the scenery for the first time since boarding the bus. Perhaps she _would_ enjoy the rest of this trip, after all.

\--

When they’d parted, it had been with the knowledge that Therese would be in New Zealand for two more weeks, seeing out her planned itinerary. She had a feeling, too, that it would be up to her to arrange a date, when she got back to New York. Carol had given her those phone numbers, and now the ball was in her court – as if there was any doubt as to how she’d play it!

The days passed, and Therese found herself compulsively reaching for her cell phone more and more often. She’d added Carol to her contacts, but hadn’t sent any message yet; she wanted to let Carol settle back into New York life, and she didn’t want to seem desperate. But, eventually, she caved. Just sending one photo couldn’t hurt – just to show Carol the scenery.

Therese flicked through her camera roll, shamelessly picking the most flattering photo of herself; perched on top of a big Victorian-era penny-farthing bicycle, amid a street of historic limestone buildings. And a caption…

_Current location: Victorian Oamaru._

Having sent it – and immediately begun to panic slightly – Therese reminded herself (firmly) of the time difference between their locations. She shouldn’t expect a response too soon.

When it came, she nearly dropped her phone in her haste to check it.

_Current location: the Wollman Rink._

And there was a photo of Carol standing on the ice, hands on the shoulders of a girl who could only be Rindy. The resemblance was striking, and they both looked happy and rosy-cheeked with cold. Therese clutched her phone a bit tighter, as though Carol might feel it.

\--

Therese couldn’t help it – she began taking photos with almost the express intention of having something to send to Carol. She didn’t send them too often – in fact, in a shamefully adolescent way, she counted the days to keep herself in check. Carol didn’t seem to feel pestered, though – in fact, the replies she sent made it feel like a game. The two of them weren’t explicitly saying ‘I miss you’, or ‘I fully intend to see you when we’re both in New York’ – all they ever said, really, was ‘current location’.

Well, there was the one time Therese sent a picture of her feet propped up on the wooden rim of a hot tub, with a stunning view of a river valley spread out below. Not coincidentally, the photo was rather a good shot of Therese’s legs.

_Current location: Onsen Hot Pools, Queenstown._

The reply came quickly.

_What a view…_

And then,

_Current location: bed._

Therese waited…but no photo appeared. She shook her head, grinning, and nearly typed ‘You’re a dreadful tease’, but instead just replied,

_Sweet dreams, Carol._

\--

By the time she was boarding the plane home at Auckland International Airport, Therese had used up almost all the space on each of her various cameras. The trip had definitely been the adventure she’d longed for…and more, besides.

The flight was…long. Therese had never been great with long-haul flights; but at least this time as she slipped in and out of consciousness she could call up mental images of Carol’s face, Carol’s hair.

Being back in New York was somehow surreal. The flight had exhausted her, and she had so much to organise; unpacking, and laundry, and getting her tiny apartment in order again. She let a few days pass, wanting to feel like herself again before she contacted Carol…and anxiety began to gnaw at her again. Their time together seemed so long ago – weeks and timezones and ocean miles away – what if things were too different here, in their daily lives? What if it had all just been the sun and the romantic scenery?

Still, Therese couldn’t help but try. Chewing her lip nervously, she messaged Carol.

_Hey, I’m back in New York, and pretty much over the jetlag. Was wondering if you might be free for a drink?_

The reply came half an hour later.

_Absolutely. How about Friday? At Pequeno?_

\--

Friday night was freezing – not unusual for January in New York. As she approached the bar, Therese’s gloved fingers were balled in the pockets of her coat, partly from cold and partly from pure nervous tension. Huffing a deep breath, she pushed open the door to the dimly-lit premises.

At once she was enveloped in warm, sweet-smelling air that carried the pleasant citrus-tang of cocktails. She shivered a little, all the same, as she loosened the tartan scarf from her neck and gazed around anxiously.

“Northern Hemisphere weather, huh?”

Perched atop a barstool, and looking just incredible, Carol Aird was looking her up and down. Before Therese had quite recovered herself, the woman had slipped off the stool and joined her, saying “You look fantastic.”  
And then she found herself pulled into a quick, tight embrace. Carol’s arm snaked round her waist, and her perfume set Therese’s head spinning, and that was before Carol had breathed a soft _“I missed you”_ in her ear. The young woman knew she must already be blushing, as they pulled away.

_Five seconds in and you’re already breathless. Nice, Belivet._

“Hi,” she managed, stupidly, and Carol grinned.  
“What can I get you to drink?”

Soon they were ensconced in a booth, across the table from each other.  
“It’s good to see you,” offered Therese, setting down her glass.  
“And you.”  
It felt oddly like a first date – the nights they’d spent together seemed impossibly far away. (Even if certain memories did resurface, every time Carol quirked her lips or idly stroked her wine glass…)

“It looked like you enjoyed the rest of your travels. Thank you for the photos.”  
“It was amazing! You really should’ve seen Queenstown – the scenery! And on the lake there’s this ‘floating bar’ called Perky’s - it’s a quaint little boat with fairy lights strung up on the deck, and…”

There was suddenly so much to talk about. Therese had no shortage of travel stories, from places in New Zealand Carol had never been, and she remembered at once how much she _loved_ making Carol laugh.

“Oh, hang on, I can actually show you more photos…”  
Therese pulled her phone out and scrolled through the pictures – and as they passed it back and forth, the older woman’s fingers kept brushing against hers. Between that and the wine, Therese was starting to feel light-headed.

“But how are things with you? How’s Rindy?”  
“She’s great. She hasn’t taken off that paua shell bracelet since I gave it to her,” Carol smiled. “It _is_ good to be home…though I’m very, very glad I took that trip.”

Carol glanced at her watch, then, and looked less-than-certain for the first time all night.  
“Therese…do you…have to be anywhere, in particular, tonight?”  
“No.”  
“What say we get out of here, then? I could show you my place, if you’d like.”

Therese tried not to show her anticipation, though she suspected she was failing.  
“Sure – let’s.”

Out on the street, Carol wordlessly took Therese’s gloved hand – and though it was different from the way they’d held hands under Southern hemisphere sun, it was equally warming.

\--

Therese waited while Carol unlocked her door. These apartments were swanky – which was no surprise, given what she knew of Carol.

The apartment was dimly lit, and stylish in an understated sort of way. Therese heard the door click shut behind them.

“May I take your coat?”

The young woman tried not to shiver at the note of seduction in Carol’s voice, and shrugged out of her coat. Carol hung it up, then turned back to face Therese. And though, from her voice a moment ago, the young woman had thought she might be about to be kissed, now Carol looked…tender, almost vulnerable.

“The view’s not bad,” she said, gesturing towards the window, and Therese took her cue, crossing the room to look out onto the street. Carol followed her, leaning against the window’s opposite side, her arms crossed. Therese could feel her eyes on her.

“I’m glad you called,” Carol said, quietly. “I wasn’t sure you would.”  
Therese must have looked completely incredulous, because Carol’s lips twitched into a smile as she continued, “Well, I _am_ older. And a holiday romance is one thing…”  
“Carol, I – I was always going to call. I think you’re…”

Realising that she was utterly incapable of forming an adequate sentence, Therese took the only option available to her. Before she knew quite what she was doing – or where she’d got the courage – she was pressing Carol up against the window frame, kissing her with all the feeling she could not articulate. Then Carol’s hands were in her hair, at her waist, pulling her closer and _God_ , it felt good.  As Therese felt her temperature skyrocket, cheeks burning, Carol tugged them away from the window, her mouth now doing impossibly good things on Therese’s neck.  
“I’m a terrible hostess,” she whispered throatily, her hands suddenly everywhere and yet still not enough. “Haven’t even offered you a drink.”  
Therese only managed a whimper in response, and the older woman chuckled.  
“Would I be – ahh – would I be wildly off the mark if I guessed you might have missed me?”  
“What gave it away?” managed Therese, her voice rather strained.  
“Oh, your hands, and your lips, and – ohh, fucking hell – bed, now.”

That she might have given up on this – that she might not have dared to make the call – seemed absurd to Therese as she helped pull Carol’s soft sweater over her head, and reveled in the softer skin beneath. This was perfect, this was a miracle that had fallen out of a clear New Zealand sky, and now she was going to savour every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt I'll get the Epilogue to you till after New Year's - so happy holidays, everyone! Season's greetings from NZ! xx


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me to the end! This is just a brief little tag to round the story off - and it's as sweet and fluffy as the rest of this plot-less fic. I'm just glad I could get it to you in time for New Year's Eve!   
> (It's just past 7pm here in New Zealand - I should be getting dressed to go out!)

**December 31 st (one year later)**

Whatever the temperature outside, inside it was warm and bright. The apartment had been thoroughly – but tastefully – decked out for the season, due in no small part to Rindy’s enthusiasm. Festive greenery adorned the lintels, a few well-placed candles lent a glow to dark corners, and the tree sat pride of place, still regal on this last day of the year.

On one the couches, two women were curled together – the dark-haired young woman nestled under the blonde woman’s arm.

“Looks like we’ll actually make it to the midnight countdown this year.”  
Carol smirked in response, glancing at her watch.  
“Unless you do something _impossibly_ desirable in the next…two minutes.”  
Therese winked, and it was so obviously an expression the young woman had copied from Carol herself that she didn’t know whether to laugh or to kiss her.

Then, a burst of laughter came from the kitchen, where Rindy was helping Abby and her date – a vivacious redhead called Sam – pour the champagne (and the sparkling grape juice).  
“FIVE GOOOLD RINGS!”

(Rindy had recently discovered that the twelve days of Christmas traditionally began on Christmas Day and did not end until Twelfth Night – and that therefore she should not be expected to lay off the carols until January 5th. “The Internet is dangerous,” said Carol.)

Evidently Abby and Sam had found a way to cut short that _particular_ rendition, however, because when they came in a moment later they were all smiles and quiet chatter.  
“C’mon, lovebirds,” Abby glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “It’s nearly time for the countdown.”

Getting to their feet and pausing only to stretch, the two women crossed the room to join their friends. Sam passed out the champagne flutes, smiling.  
“Ooh, ooh, get ready!”  
“Ten…nine…eight…”  
Rindy was beaming around the circle of her mother’s friends, half excited little girl and half oh-so-sophisticated.  
“seven…six…five…four…”  
Sidling closer, Carol slipped one arm around Therese’s waist.  
“THREE…TWO…ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

There was an immediate cacophony of salutations; whoops and shouts, and the clinking of glasses. Rindy was the picture of all things bright and new…and there was a smile on Carol’s lips as she turned to Therese. Therese, who still looked at her the way she had one evening on a wharf in Akaroa.  
“Darling…happy New Year.”

It was a brief kiss – at least by their usual standards. Even so, by the time they parted, Rindy was wearing the face of longsuffering patience that meant she really didn’t mind at all. Abby and Sam both looked a little flushed, and very pleased with themselves.

“Should aulllld acquaintance beee forgot,” Rindy began slowly, giving the grownups a moment to catch up, “and never brought to mind…”

Their singing voices ranged in quality, but it couldn’t have mattered less. They all linked hands on “here’s a hand my trusty friend / and gie’s a hand o thine” – and Abby sang each verse in an exaggerated version of Scots that had Rindy and Sam in stitches.

Looking around their little circle – her little _life_ – with laughing eyes, Carol realised that this was the second New Year’s Eve in a row that, far from being a disappointment, had been everything she could have hoped. It seemed she was going to have to adjust her expectations.

Outside, the New York night was dark and crisp; while, across the seas in New Zealand, the sun would already be blazing high. If you looked at it the right way, Carol mused, sunrise was perpetual. It heralded a bright new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we are! Happy New Year, everyone - may it bring you everything that's good! xx
> 
> Oh, and here's a picture I took a few evenings ago in Akaroa, of what I now think of as Carol & Therese's wharf:  
> [](http://s1188.photobucket.com/user/Genevievey/media/20161227_194840_zpsqeplba5p.jpg.html)


End file.
